


Tale As Old As Time

by KammieCeleek, NinaFujisaki



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Beauty and the Beast AU, F/M, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance, True Love, there's a lot more characters to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28941216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KammieCeleek/pseuds/KammieCeleek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaFujisaki/pseuds/NinaFujisaki
Summary: Gosalyn Waddlemeyer never quite fit into her home village of St. Canard.  When her grandfather disappears, she finds a manor in the woods and within its walls, there were hiden an unusual family, a curse, and a boy with a golden heart beyond a monstrous appearance.
Relationships: Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard, Huey Duck/Gosalyn Mallard, Morgana Macawber/Drake Mallard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. The Most Beautiful of St. Canard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, finally a Ducktales fic of mine that doesn't have to do with the Gen Swap AU! And yet... it's another AU lol  
> But hey, this time it's a collab! Thank you showing up with this idea and dealing with me to put it out as a proper fic instead of just our talks on Discord, Kammie ^-^
> 
> This story's been so much fun to write. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as well!

_Once upon a time, there was a very, very rich lord, perhaps the richest lord who ever lived, and because of that, he had made many enemies._

_Despite loving his immense trove of gold, the lord's greatest treasure was his family, and his enemies knew it._

_One of those enemies was a witch and one day she cast a wicked spell on the lord's family, cursing not only him, but the firstborn son of each generation after him, and the only way to undo the spell was for one of the cursed to find true love outside of the family bond._

_But who could ever love the monsters that the curse made them, inside and out?_

~~

“Watch your feet! You’re losing your balance, kid! Swordfighting is an art, you need to dance with it!” Drake kept shouting advice to his young adversary and apprentice.

“Dancing isn’t exactly my strong suit,” she laughed, blocking one of his attacks. Her curly red hair bounced around her head, almost appearing to be on fire in the late morning sun.

Drake laughed back, but his laugh had a touch of victory in it as he used Gosalyn’s trouble with balance on his favor, attacking her in a way that not only made the girl’s sword fly from her hand but also caused her fall on her bottom. He chuckled once more, looking amused at the first confused and then sullen girl.

“It seems like, before we continue with our sword-fighting lessons, I’ll need to give you dance lessons.”

“Very funny.” She huffed as he extended a hand and helped her to her feet. “I’ll beat you one of these days. And sword or not, I can still outshoot you with a bow from the other side of the village.”

Drake knew very well that was true, but before he could say anything, the door of the small house nearby them opened. A very tall woman with long, black hair got out, approaching Drake and Gosalyn with a tray of water and a few slices of bread with cheese. She grinned at the two of them.

“Drake, Darling, you’re not giving Gosalyn a hard time, are you?” Her voice had a note of teasing in it that made Drake’s cheeks burn bright red.

“Not at all, Morgie, I’m just doing what she asked me from day one: teaching her how to be the best.” He side eyed the young girl and Gosalyn rolled her eyes. Despite years of marriage, Drake still acted like a schoolboy with a crush around his wife.

“Yes, Morgana, it’s all fine,” the redhead decided to say, to help her teacher get off the hook.

Morgana just nodded then and the other two left the training equipment aside to go for the lunch the woman had brought them. Gosalyn chewed on the meal, but Drake could tell her mind was elsewhere.

“Do you… wanna talk about what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing’s bothering me!”

“You stopped falling for that move after our first month. You’re distracted today.”

“ _Or_ your abilities are outshining today.”

Even Morgana stopped eating at those words, looking shocked at the girl.

“You? Flattering me?” Drake almost snorted. “Okay, no, there’s definitely something wrong with you.”

“Okay, fine.” She let out a sigh. “It’s Tank. He’s been more determined lately to ‘win me over’ so I’ll marry him. I ran into him on my way over.”

Morgana rolled her eyes, “Haven't you told him no more than ten times now?”

“With each passing day,” Drake almost growls. “I grow more and more sorry that I can’t just throw that mountain of muscles with no brain in a cell. I mean, I _can_ , but unless he comitted something like murder, the villagers would never forgive me for arresting their “Golden boy”.”

“I know. I just… I wish he would listen to me when I told him no for once. I mean, I know he does, but he just takes that as a ‘not today, try again later!’ Like if he just keeps asking he’ll wear me down. I’m twenty two, isn’t this too young to be thinking about marriage anyways??”

“Men,” Morgana huffed, shaking her head. “They think no means yes and ‘Get lost!” means “I’m all yours~”.”

“Hey!” Drake yelped, sounding offended.

“Oh, not you, dear. Finding someone who respects women as people is rare. I got lucky when I met you.”

Her tone was really sincere, just like her smile, a smile that Drake returned with all the love in his heart. Gosalyn wasn’t one for love stories, especially if they were filled with sugar and too melodramatic poems, but the love she sees between Drake and Morgana… it’s so strong, and so real and genuine. They weren’t a perfect couple, she had seen them arguing before, but they respected and stuck by each other when times were bad.

It was a mutual, willing relationship, and sometimes, just in the depths of her mind, Gosalyn allowed herself to imagine how it would be to have someone by her side like that.

“Don’t let him wear you down,” Morgana continued. “You just keep going about your life, and someday someone else will come along. You’ll marry someone better or he’ll marry someone stupid enough to put up with him. Either way, he won’t be a problem anymore.”

That got a laugh from Gosalyn, her humor lifting a little alongside with her hopes.

“You’re right, Morgana.” With that, she finished her bread and water before standing up. “I better go now, the science fair in Duckburg’s in two days and I need to help my Grandpa.”

“You’re a good kid, Gos,” Drake told her. “Tell your grandpa we said hello!”

“I will!” Gosalyn smiled, and had already given some steps when she reminded. “Ah! Can I have the newspaper, please?”

“Sure, dear.” Morgana handed her the edition of this week’s journal. St. Canard was such a small and distant village that this was the only bearable schedule for the _Duckburg Daily_ to attend them.

Gosalyn thanked one more time, before leaving for real this time. With her face buried into the pages with news from the big city, the redheaded, brown feathered girl went down the hill from Drake’s house until the village of St Canard.

So distracted was she that Gosalyn wouldn’t notice how the people around (the baker, the butcher, the housewives, or even the teacher hurrying his students back inside the school) would look at her. More precisely, at the journal in her hands and at her outfit that included a pair of pants. Every person in that place, every single one, found her weird, uncanny, and yet, every single person there agreed on one thing: Gosalyn Waddlemeyer was the most beautiful girl in the village.

And as such, she’d gotten the attention of the village’s ‘hero’, a rather large and robust young man by the name of Tank Muddlefoot. Most girls in the village would’ve given their left arm for a chance to be noticed by him, but he had eyes only for Gosalyn.

Speaking of the meathead, he’d spotted her walking through the village and made his way over to her. Right behind him was his most loyal lackey, a somewhat meek and overweight duck named Doofus Drake.

“Didn’t you already ask her this morning?” Doofus whispered as Tank made his way towards the object of his affections.

“I did, but I want to ask her again!” Tank slapped Doofus on the back of his neck, a grin growing back on his face as he stopped in front of the woman he wanted as his wife.

In her distracted state, Gosalyn wound up bumping right into him. She looked up and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Hello, Tank. Again.”

“Ah, Gosalyn, charming as always. So, had enough time to think on my question from earlier?”

“Your question.” She tapped her chin. “Oh, you must mean your demand. Yes, I’ve had enough time to think on it. And my answer has not changed. The answer is no. I’m not going to marry you.”

Tank's expression darkened for a brief second, but his superior expression was back in place when his eyes laid on the sheets she was holding.

“It’s reading these things that’s the problem,” he swiped the journal from her hands. “Don’t you know it’s not right for a woman to read? Soon they start having thoughts, ideas…” The last words left his mouth as if they were the most absurd.

“Tank, give me back the journal.” She reached to grab the papers from his grubby hands, but he held it out of her reach, using his height against her.

“Journal? Ha! Gosalyn, don't you see? All this reading is already rotting your brain, this is a newspaper.”

He then dropped it in the mud near his feet.

"Hey! I wasn't done!" Gosalyn tried to reach it, but Tank stepped between her and the paper.

"You need to stop filling your head with so much garbage, Gosalyn. Settle down, with me."

"Wow. Such a romantic proposal, I think I might faint." Her tone was flat, but she resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. If it kept going like this, they would fall out of her head. 

"I know, right?" He, obviously, doesn't get the hint, and tries to put an arm over her shoulders. "We can go to the tavern and talk more about it."

"Obviously someone doesn't speak sarcasm," the redhead murmured, but she honestly didn’t mind if Tank had heard.

Either way, it was her time to use her size for an advantage, and easily Gosalyn had escaped his grasp.

"Thanks but no thanks. I need to go and help my Grandpa."

"That crazy old man? Gos, he's holding you back!"

Gosalyn spun on her heels and put a finger onto that big beak of his.

"Don't you dare talk about my Grandpa like that!"

Tank almost gulped for a second with the fierce spark in her green eyes, but then he turns on his hills as well, and points a finger to his sidekick.

"Yeah, don't talk about her Grandpa like that!"

Doofus just blinked and Gosalyn can’t hold back rolling her eyes this time. She picks up her newspaper out of the mud, shaking the muck from the pages as best she could before she faced her unwanted suitor once more.

"Tank, I do not and never will have any interest in marrying you. Get that through your head!"

 _'What's wrong with her?'_ Gosalyn heard that and some other whispers coming from a group of girls watching the scene, but she just ignored them. They and the proclamations Tank kept shouting as she walked away.

"Oh, but you will. I want you Gosalyn Waddlemeyer, and what I want, I get!"


	2. Outstanding Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the introductions last chapter, the gears for this story finally start to move.  
> Thank you for everyone who read the last chapter and could leave a kudo, we appreciate it :)

The hill that held Drake’s house was on an edge of the Village. Gosalyn’s house was at the other end of St. Canard, so it usually took her a walk of fifteen minutes to go from one to another. Usually. When Tank doesn’t step in her way.

The redhead girl knew her grandpa wouldn’t be mad with her for being late (in fact, he probably hadn’t even noticed), but even then she still hurried her step back home as soon as she got rid of Tank. Their house was nothing special, just a cozy little cottage that stood out from the rest of the village only by the fact it was built with stones instead of wood. Stones were better, Gosalyn rationalised, as brilliant as her grandpa is, science is still something that could easily fail, and when it does, it’s better not to live in a flammable place.

As if to prove her point, there was a loud _boom_ as she approached the house and smoke flew from the windows.

“Grandpa?” Gosalyn called, distraught and ran to the house. She opened the door and more smoke came out, alongside coughs. “Grandpa!”

“It’s okay, Goosy, I’m— _cough, cough_ —I’m fine, just- just a problem with the machine.”

The figure of a short, overweight old man showed up from the smoke. He lifted his protective goggles and smiled at his precious granddaughter.

“There you are, dear.”

Gosalyn chuckled, “Hi, Grandpa.” But she couldn’t not worry, entering the house to have a better look of him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Gosalyn. Just a mild calibration issue, nothing we can’t fix.” He patted his pet project. “How was your lesson this morning?”

“It was good,” she answered sincerely.

Yes, Drake had cleaned the floor with her, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good day. Gosalyn liked training fight styles, and spending time with the two people beside her grandpa that made her not feel like a total outcast in her home village was always good. That thought plus a look at the still dirty newspaper on her hands made her expression fall, however.

“Grandpa, be honest with me. Am I… too different?”

“Different?” He considered it for a moment. “Of course you are, and so am I. No one is like anyone else, Goosy.”

“I know, I know, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Gosalyn sat down on a chair with a sigh. “Beside Drake and Morgana, I don’t have any friends here. I don’t really fit in, you know? Not with my interests, not… Not as who I am.”

Feeling waves of sadness coming from his little girl, Thaddeus dropped aside the tools he was about to use on his last invention, approaching Gosalyn and resting his hands on her shoulders, comfortingly.

“Gosalyn, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with who you are. You just have a lot of spirit, but that only makes you this amazing, outstanding person that I love so much.” He smiled warmingly at her when his words managed to make his granddaughter lift her head. “Your spirit is a virtue, Gosalyn, and believe me there are people out there who will be lucky enough to see it as such.”

“You really think so?” She smiled back, although shyly.

“I know so.”

Grandfather and granddaughter shared a hug before Thaddeus spoke again.

“Now, how about you help me fix this thing so we can make some money on the fair within two days?”

Gosalyn just nodded, and the two of them got to work. They basically spent the rest of the day working on the machine Thaddeus had named Ramrod, and after getting it out and tested on a tree in the woods (now they had lots of firewood), the Waddlemeyers were ready for the science fair.

On the next day, Gosalyn helped her grandpa prepare their wagon and their horse. Duckburg was really far, so the scientist would be leaving already.

"Be careful," she told him as he got onto Juniper's back.

"Don't worry about me, Goosy, I'll be fine. You just worry about the house, and if that Tank comes sniffing around you tell him to buzz off."

“You can be sure about that.” Gosalyn smiled at him, starting to wave as Juniper started to walk away, carrying Thaddeus and the wagon with her. “Bye! Good luck! I love you!”

“I love you too, dear! Take care, goodbye!” The scientist waved back.

And Gosalyn stayed watching until he disappeared from her view. With a sigh and missing him already, the girl headed back into the house.

On the other side of town, Morgana opened the door of her house to find the village hero standing on the other side. She let out an annoyed sigh. It wasn't enough to bother poor Gosalyn; he had to come to her home, too?

"Hello, Mrs. Mallard," Tank greeted her politely.

"Tank Muddlefoot," she replied curtly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I would like something from you."

"And what might that be?" She wasn't going to give him anything no matter what, but curiosity kept her from slamming the door in his face.

"A love potion. A witch like you knows how to make one, I assume."

Morgana rolled her eyes.

Ever since she and Drake had moved to St. Canard, rumors had flown that she was a witch with fantastical magic powers. And while she'd never done anything to fuel the rumors, the townspeople hadn't exactly tried to confirm or deny the truth of the accusations. It was yet another reason they avoided her and her husband. So of course Tank had come to her in his zeal to court and marry Gosalyn. Nobody wanted a witch around unless they wanted something from them. That was just a factor of life in a village of superstition like this one.

“And which _lucky lady_ would be on the receiving end of this potion, if I chose to give you one?”

“Gosalyn Waddlemeyer.” He puffed out his chest proudly.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“Why not? Surely you’d leap at the chance to help the most respected person in the village! I’d pay you handsomely.”

“Even if I _were_ a witch, I wouldn’t help you. Gosalyn happens to be like a daughter to me and no daughter of mine is going to marry someone who treats her the way you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It means that you’re not getting anything, no matter how much money you give us. Now leave!”

She stepped backwards into the house, slamming the door in his face as she did so. He let out a growl, then looked to see Drake sharpening a sword nearby.

“Captain Mallard, would you talk some sense into your wife?” he requested.

“Sense? Morgana has plenty of sense. She just turned you down, didn’t she?”

“But you’re her husband! She’s supposed to obey you!” 

Drake blinked, his face darkening not only by what Tank was suggesting about Morgana but also by anger that that brainless grunt of a guy thought he deserved Gosalyn. Only over his dead corpse!

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“But—”

“ _Now_ , Muddlefoot.” It wasn’t a suggestion. He plunged the tip of his sword into the dirt, the newly-sharpened blade glinting in the sunlight.

Not even Tank was dumb or self-centred enough to think he could win against a sword with his bare hands, and therefore, he left, grumbling and cursing the couple under his breath all the way down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, Doofus was waiting for him with his horse.

Doofus watched as his boss/hero/best friend(?) approached with heavy steps.

“So?” he asked when the Muddlefoot stopped in front of him.

“She refuses! Says she's not a witch!”

“And that wouldn't be a good thing? That we don't have a witch among us?”

“NOT WHEN I NEED ONE!” Tank exploded. “And that spineless husband of hers… Let me tell ya, Doofus, I should go for the position of Captain of St. Canard, that Mallard can’t control his own wife, how can he take care of this place?”

“W-well, life in St. Canard has been better than ever since Captain Mallard assumed fifteen years ago, and—” One glare from Tank made him stop and gulp. “A-and you’d make an even better job than him, sir! No doubts there!”

Tank just relaxed his expression, enjoying the boost on his ego, but soon the reason why he considered becoming captain in the first place came back on his mind. The most beautiful girl in the village had rejected him so many times by now that Tank had gotten desperate enough to look for a witch’s help. He wanted to laugh at himself. He was Tank Muddlefoot, the most handsome and strong person in this town and he needed no help to get what he wanted. And right now, his list of wishes had grown for two things.

“Gosalyn would be perfect for a captain’s wife, don’t you agree, Doofus?”

“Oh, yes, sir! She’d keep any of your children in line, you'd be the model of the perfect family!”

Tank’s smile only grew, “Yeah, she would. And she will!” He jumped on his horse. “Come on Doofus, we have a wedding to prepare!”


	3. The Manor in The Woods

The woods had always been a rather eerie place, Thaddeus thought. During the day, it was bearable to walk or ride under them, but once the night fell, the lines and lines of trees looked more like stared monsters ready to attack as soon as one looked away. And even worse than the irrational fears were the real things out there to fear.

“AUUuuu!” A wolf howled far away.

The old scientist gulped.

“Weird, we should have reached the inn on the road to Duckburg by now. Juniper, did we take the wrong path somehow?”

Not a surprise, the horse didn’t answer, but Thaddeus could feel the animal’s muscles tensing under him. Another howl was heard, sounding closer this time, and so Waddlemeyer clapped the reins to make Juniper go a bit faster.

Suddenly, ferocious snarling erupted from the bushes as a dark shape seemingly appeared in front of him. A wolf, thin and hungry, eyeing both the scientist and his horse with the kind of look that didn’t spell anything good for either of them. More came from the bushes and Juniper reared up. Thaddeus fell from her back as she began to run, the yoke of the wagon snapping from the force of her turning around and sending the wagon itself into a tree.

Alone, the old man scrambled to his feet and began to run.

He counted his lucky stars as he rushed along the path that they’d chosen to pursue his horse over him. There was no way he’d be able to survive an encounter of that magnitude.

His luck wasn’t better than that, however. It was an extremely chilling night and he was completely alone in the middle of the dark woods, with no idea where to go. He could try to walk, but he didn’t know how to get to the inn, nor if the wolves wouldn’t come after him again. His better option, he started to consider, was to try to climb a tree and spend the night on a branch.

Then, as he continued forward, he saw lights in the distance. His heart leapt. There was something there! He got his second wind and began to run towards it, stumbling along the way as the massive manor came into view.

_ Where did a place like this… I’ve never heard of a manor house being in these woods! _

Another blow of cold air hit him, making the man shiver and reminding him of his situation. Right now, a mysterious, abandoned-looking manor was better than staying outside at the wolves’ grasp.

The gate was old, covered on grapevines and trailing ivy, and made a scratching sound when Thaddeus hardly pushed it open. Hesitantly, he walked through the garden and up the front stairs to the main door. He knocked.

After two minutes of no answer, the old man rolled his eyes at himself. With a house so big no one would hear a simple knock at the door. Even then, his politeness made him knock again before opening the door by himself. It cracked as well, but nothing compared with the gate outside.

“Hello?”

He heard footsteps somewhere beyond the darkened entry hall, but he saw no-one. It was almost as eerie as the woods, but it was much warmer here.

“Is anyone here?” he questioned, raising his voice slightly. As he turned in circles, he was unaware of someone approaching until they set a hand on his arm.

He leapt back with a yelp before he realized it was a woman, perhaps the same age his son and daughter-in-law would’ve been if they were still alive. She had white hair that just fell to her shoulders and wore a tunic and leggings rather than a dress. The woman also had a rather kind smile on her face as she held her hands up to show she meant no harm.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. Hi, are you lost?” she asked.

“Oh. Sorry. Yes, I am. Is this your home?”

“Mine and my family’s, yes.” She dropped her arms down but was still standing a hand for him as she started walking more into the house. “Come with me, you look like you need food and a blanket.”

From the direction she seemed to be heading to, Thaddeus heard a squeak and some shushes, quickly followed by fast steps running away. He looked to the woman again, and she was still waiting.

“Come along, now.”

He followed her to a sitting room where a fire had been lit. It blazed brightly in the hearth, illuminating the woman’s face as she gestured to a rather comfy-looking chair for him to sit in.

“I’ll go get you some food. For now, you just rest. You look close to death as it is.”

Thaddeus could only nod and slowly sit on the chair, too surprised for everything that happened and is happening to even say a thank you. The woman didn’t see to mind, walking away to the next room.

She had barely stepped out when he heard some agitated voices.

_ “Mom, are you crazy?!” _ A male voice said.  _ “Inviting a trespasser in and letting him sit on Uncle Scrooge’s chair?!” _

_ “Where’s Huey?” _ was all the woman said in reply.

_ “He ran upstairs as soon as the door was open,” _ answered another masculine voice.

_ “Boys, he’s a sick old man. Would you really let him stay out there in the cold when we have more food and warmth than any of us could possibly use ourselves?” _

None of the boys answered that, so the woman spoke again.

_ “Louie, come help me with the food. Dewey, you stay here and keep him some company. And where’s Dillon?” _

As if to answer her question, a small duckling popped up to Thaddeus’s right. He couldn’t have been older than nine, his feathers freckled from head to toe with wide curious eyes on the old man.

“Don’t tell her I’m in here,” he whispered. “Mama says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers but you seem okay.”

“O-oh… Okay,” the old man basically whispered too. “Although you should listen to your mother, little guy.”

The duckling—Dillon—just shrugged, sitting on the chair’s arm.

“So, where are you from? How did you get here? Who are you? How’s the place where you live? You know other kids?”

The questions came with no breaks in between, Thaddeus’ surprise at the speed he would ask them only being beaten by the genuine curiosity in the little boy’s eyes. A curiosity that he found extremely familiar, only he was used to seeing it from green eyes, instead of yellow ones.

The resemblance with his granddaughter warmed the scientist’s heart more than the fire behold him ever could and he smiled, ready to answer Dillon’s question when the door which the woman had left a minute ago was opened again.

“Dillon!” It was a young adult duck, with spotless white feathers and wearing a blue tunic. “I thought I had heard your voice. Come on, Mom’s looking for you.”

“But I’m talking to the old guy! He’s nicer than Uncle—”

Suddenly there was a  _ thud _ and Dillon froze, his eyes wide with terror as he ran and clung to his brother.

“He’s coming.” The elder brother nodded and rushed out of the room. Thaddeus struggled to his feet, but his age and the chill in his bones made his movement slow and then he saw what had terrified the two.

It was a monster.

-

The Sun rose as always in St. Canard, and Gosalyn was already up and ready to start her day. Her wish was to take her bow and arrows and go practice her aim outside near the woods, but she had chores to conclude first. Feeding the chickens, for example. The redhead girl was just about to head outside when there was a knock on her door.

“Who could be?” Gosalyn murmured to herself. Aside from the Mallard couple, few people had ever visited them or shown interest except for…

_ Oh, no. Come on, I thought I had more time than this before he started trying again. _

“Go away, Tank, it’s too early for this,” she said without even opening the door.

“Come on, Gos, just let me in. I promise I won’t try to propose this time.”

Against her better judgement, she let out a groaning sigh and opened the door to find him wearing his best suit. She blinked at him in confusion as he pushed past her into the house and sat in her grandpa’s chair at the table.

“See? No proposal!” He grinned and put his feet up. Mud dripped off his shoes and onto the table she’d just cleaned.

Gosalyn frowned, making her best not to growl, just putting her hands on her waist instead.

“So what? You came here only to get my table dirty?”

“Nope. I came to tell you I’m getting married.” He gave her a look that she couldn’t quite read.

“Well, good for you,”  _ and bad for your unfortunate fianceé,  _ she added in thoughts. “Tell me when the wedding is, I wouldn’t mind watching it with my own eyes.”

“The wedding’s today. I just came to take my bride.”

That revelation plus the way he looked at her made everything click in Gosalyn’s head and her face twisted in a mix of anger and disgust.

“ _ Me? _ Are you kidding?! You just said you weren’t here to propose!”

“And I’m not!” Tank got his feet off the table and stood up again. “We’re getting married today. Everyone’s waiting for me and you outside.”

_ Outside? _ Gosalyn looked through the window and her blood ran cold in her veins when she saw Tank wasn’t exaggerating. There were probably thirdy people outside, without counting some kids here and there, which meant most part of the village really was there.

Including the priest.

“Beauty, don’t you see?” Tank spoke again, and when she turned around, she found herself pretty much cornered between the man and the door.

Gosalyn wasn’t a tiny woman, per se; she had a median height and her trains with Drake made her more built up than any other girl in St. Canard. But Tank was  _ huge, _ and more than ever the way he was approaching and speaking to her made fear beat her usual annoyance. She  _ didn’t like _ him, she didn’t want to be  _ near _ him! Was that so hard to understand and accept?!

“You and I, two handsome miracles of nature, were made to be together! Can’t ignore your destiny much longer, Goosy~”

To listen to her Grandpa’s sweet nickname for her coming from his lips was the last drop that made Gosalyn’s brain snap back in action.

“Tank…” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to say it once more and it’s gonna be the last time:  _ my answer. Is. NO!” _

In the blink of an eye, Gosalyn kicked the middle of his legs with her boot-clad foot, nailing him in the spot that caused any man to fall over. Tank howled in pain, his distraction and sudden weakness giving the woman the perfect opportunity to open the door and throw him out of her house.

He landed in the mud, the wedding party performing the song he'd directed them to as soon as the door opened. Doofus motioned for them to stop, rushing to help Tank up and brushing mud from his suit. He had no idea why the musculous man had his legs folded like that, though.

“Tank, what- what happened?”

A growl that at first sounded like pain started to rise until Tank literally roared.

“OUT!! EVERYBODY OUT! THERE’S NOTHING TO SEE HERE!”

Before anyone else could move, a whiney came up from the back of the crowd. A beautiful chestnut-colored mare galloped through, Gosalyn poked her head outside and gasped.

"Juniper? Where's Grandpa?"

She ran at the horse, pragmatically ignoring everyone around. Juniper was back, but way too early and without the wagon, the Ramrod or her grandpa. Something must have happened. Something bad.

“Can you bring me to him, girl?” Gosalyn jumped on the horse, and as if understanding her question, Juniper ran like the wind back into the woods.

None of the villagers had any other reaction beside watching.


	4. A Set of Red Eyes

Gosalyn was worried about her grandpa, that went without saying, but she also started growing worried about Juniper. The mare was visibly tired; who knew for how long she had run before reaching their house in St. Canard.

Five minutes after running at top speed within the woods, Gosalyn decided to pull the reins, forcing Juniper to calm down until the point they were simply walking.

Her head was a mess. As if the whole situation with Tank hadn’t been enough, now her Grandpa was missing? It was too much to handle, and since they weren’t running anymore and the redhead had forgotten her arrows back home, she had only one option to try and de-stress: talking.

Luckly, for Gosalyn, her best listener and confidant was right beside her. Or should I say, under her.

“Can you  _ believe _ the entitlement? Like if he just set up an entire wedding and got me to come outside, I’d agree to marry him.” She shook her head and Juniper tossed hers in reply. “Besides, don’t the precious customs of the village demand that he ask my closest living male relative for my hand? He hasn’t tried to ask Grandpa anything. Probably because Grandpa wouldn’t let him… near…”

Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of something on the ground in the distance. Her blood ran cold at what she was seeing. It was an overturned wagon, the Ramrod lying on the ground in pieces.

“ _ What _ happened with you two, Juniper?” Gosalyn murmured, the bad feeling on the gut of her stomach returning with full power. “Well… At least this should mean we’re getting closer to where he is, right?”

The mare just neighed softly before they continued their way ahead.

“Grandpa!” Gosalyn would shout now and then, in hopes her only family member would hear her and then they could simply go home together.

Almost an hour passed, though, and there was no signal of Thaddeus Waddlemeyer. Gosalyn was seriously considering running back to the village to seek Drake’s help (the Captain did have a sniffer dog) when her green eyes spotted something far through the woods. Narrowing her eyes and getting closer, the redhead saw what could be a gigantic house right out from a horror book. The sun had been covered while she rode under the woods, so even though it was still midday, the gray clouds over the clearly old manor just increased the chill that ran up her spine.

Approaching that house was clearly not a good idea, but another idea clicked in her mind:  _ What if he’s in there? _ And that thought was all she needed to get off of Juniper and continue their way from the half opened gate by foot.

Unbeknownst to Gosalyn, there was someone watching her from an up window. Red eyes stared at her before turning away towards somewhere else within the manor.

“Hello?” she called as she entered the house. It was eerily quiet. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like she was being watched. Maybe she had compared that place too much with a horror book.

“Hello? Is there anyone home? Have you seen an old man?” Gosalyn kept asking, her voice getting louder and therefore echoing more through the house with each word.

But there was still no answer. Was that place truly abandoned, or was it just too big to anyone to hear her as it is? Deciding to test her second hypothesis, Gosalyn took a deep breath, preparing her lungs to shout for someone when—

“Please don’t scream!” came a hushed plea.

Taken by surprise, the yell Gosalyn was preparing ended up dying in her throat. She looked in the voice’s direction, but because of the bad illumination in the hall, she saw no one. At least, not until a figure moved in the shadows under her gaze.

Gosalyn took a step closer.

“N-no. Don’t.” The shadow moved back, seemingly afraid of her. That was when their eyes met hers and she saw red. Red eyes.

A part of her brain alerted her that she probably should be scared of it, but Gosalyn was nothing but fascinated. Not only by the color but there was something on those eyes that she couldn’t quite spot. Something wild but somehow gentle and understanding. She took a breath.

“Look, I’m not looking for trouble. I just need to find my Grandpa.”

“Grandpa?” The shadow repeated, and Gosalyn nodded.

“He’s an old man, short, white feathers, a bit of gray hair… Have you seen him?”

Even in the shadows, the figure looked very uneasy for Gosalyn, especially when they looked away.

“You have, haven’t you?” No answer, and fear started crawling upon her heart again. “Please just tell me where he is. He’s all the family I have left! Please!”

That last plea seemed to move the shadow, who had a touch of resignation in those red eyes when they looked at her again.

“Follow me, but  _ don’t  _ come close.”

With that final statement, the two of them started walking deeper into the manor, the whole time in silence, with Gosalyn at least three steps far from him and with the figure never stepping out of the shadows. She dared to send brief glances at his direction once or twice, but never got to meet the red eyes again.

They reached a different pattern of stairs, one going down for what seemed like a dungeon. As if Gosalyn’s heart wasn’t tightened enough, a familiar cough reached her ears.

“Grandpa!” Gosalyn went for the candle by the door, the only thing illuminating that long corridor, and ran down it.

One, two, three, four empty cells in until she spotted the figure of her grandfather huddled under thin blankets, shivering and coughing.

"GRANDPA!" She pulls at the door but it refuses to budge.

"Gosalyn..." his voice is dry and almost dying as he crawls to the bars. "What are... you..."

"Open this door!" Gosalyn tried to sound more demanding than distressed as she gazed at those red eyes. "Don't you see he's sick?! If he stays here, he will-" she chokes with her own words.

"I... can't. I'm sorry but I can't." The figure did sound apologetic.

"Gosalyn, go home," her grandfather rasps, barely able to move. "I'll be—"

He's cut off by a fit of his own coughing.

Gosalyn bit her tongue to hold back a sob before turning completely around to face the figure in the shadows again, this time with sharp eyes.

“ _ ‘You can’t’ _ be damned! Don’t you see he’s going to  _ die?! _ ”

"I'm sorry," the male voice said again, but not even all the sincerity in his tone was preventing his excuses from getting on Gosalyn’s nerves.

He seemed to notice that, because he completed,

"I  _ really  _ am. If I could I would let you both go, but it was my uncle who locked him in. If he finds this cage empty when he returns... I can't go against him."

"Go get your uncle then!" She slams her fist into the wall, not even noticing the pain from the sheer force. "I'm not leaving without my grandpa!"

Red eyes shone in a different, cautious spark; his tone deeper than ever, "You don't want that, believe me."

"And why not?!"

"Because..." He started, but after that single world, nothing else came.

Untill, finally, he moves.

Forward. In her direction.

Out of the shadows.

And Gosalyn can't contain a gasp.

The red eyes weren’t the only distinguishing thing on the duck in front of her. His white feathers were all wildly messy, his sharp teeth looking ready to tear meat apart, and his red shirt torn and ripped to shreds in various places. He wasn't exactly the most built but he was tall, at least one head taller than her, and that, alongside the rest of his appearance, got Gosalyn to hold her breath.

“Because, if you think I’m bad, you don’t want to see my uncle.”

Gosalyn almost faltered for a moment,  every part of her body screaming at her to run, to get away from him and this place, but the sound of Thaddeus coughing steeled her resolve.

“I don’t care. I’m not afraid of you or your uncle, I’m not leaving without my Grandpa,” her tone was final.

But it was then, when she repeated that statement once again, that an idea clicked in her mind. She wasn’t leaving without her Grandpa but… would there be a way for him to leave without her?

"What if I take his place?"

"Gosalyn, no!" yelped Thaddeus, shakily reaching for her hand.

She pulled her hand away, concentrating on staring at those red eyes.

"So? You said your uncle couldn't see an empty cell and it won't be empty if I'm in there."

The beast approached one more step, but Gosalyn just lifted her gaze to follow his, never once flinching.

"This position you're willing to take is forever. You won't be able to leave this house, not even this cell, for the rest of your life."

"Gosalyn..." her grandpa tried to say again. "Goosy, listen to me- I'm old, leave me here."

The nickname shook her heart in a bittersweet way, but it also just convinced the redhead even more of her answer when she closed her eyes and declared,

"I'm staying."

The beast nodded, then returned by the way they had arrived, once again disappearing into the shadows.

Suddenly, it felt easier to breathe there, even if just a bit.

“Gosalyn…” Thaddeus’s shaking hand reached hers again, and this time the girl allowed herself to look at him, his eyes reflecting all the fear and worry she was trying to hide in hers.

Before any of them could speak, however, steps started approaching again and the figure of the atrocious duck was back with a key.

"I'll make sure he gets home safely for you," he promised. "But for now... you can say goodbye."

The redhead ran to her Grandpa's arms as soon as the cage was open.

"Gosalyn, you shouldn't have done that."

"How could I not?" She chuckled on an attempt to hide a sob. She wasn’t going to cry. “You raised me, you’ve done everything for me. Let me at least do this for you.”

"W-we still have time, you still can go-" another wave of coughs.

"No. No, Grandpa, you go. I'll be fine as far as I know you're ok. Drake will take care of you for me."

"But who'll take care of you, with these..." he doesn't conclude, but his eyes go to the duck waiting by the door.

"If I can handle Tank, I can handle them. I can take care of myself." Gosalyn assured, for both him and herself.

But Thaddeus didn’t look convinced, slowly shaking his head in denial and Gosalyn could see the engines inside his head trying to come up with a plan to get her out of here. So she wrapped him in a hug again, tightly, and used it to help the weak man to stand up. Gosalyn couldn’t hold back a tear for what she was about to do.

“I love you, Grandpa.”

And without giving him a single second to process, she pushed her grandfather out of the cell, closing its door instantly after, with a loud  _ clank! _


End file.
